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We stopped a school shooter, but now I wished we hadn’t.
School shootings. You don’t seem to care about them until it happens to you. It was May 25, 2019. The school year was gonna end soon, and we were getting excited for summer. All of a sudden, we hear gun shots at the cafeteria. Apparently, another kid has snapped, and he so happened to choose this school to take out his anger. But our class was different. We were in History class, and Mr. Davis, a former Army Ranger, wasn’t gonna let that kid murder anymore students. When he busted down the door, we tackled him to the ground, disarmed him, and beated him up with textbooks and staplers before the SWAT came and arrested him. The perpetrator was Marque Goodman. He was a quarterback in the school’s football team and got straight As. Us kids used to look up to Marque as a hero, and teachers were happy with him, knowing he had a bright future. However, after his girlfriend announced the breakup, he stabbed her to death and dumped her body in the lake. The next morning, Marque stole his parent’s guns and killed 13 people and injured 30 before he was taken into custody. A lot of them were in the cafeteria. Our community mourned for the loss, denounced Marque, and passed gun control laws. Many kids dropped out of the school and went to either be homeschooled or get a GED. A lot had to go to therapy because of PTSD. And Marque’s bright future was thrown out the window, as he was charged with multiple murder charges and a major sentencing. When the next school year came around, everyone was still paranoid from the incident. Me and a couple of others had since got over the incident, but most would over sounds that sorta resembled a gun shot. Things only got worst as kids began to go missing. The first kid to go was Timmothy Duckworth. He had high-functioning autism with a fascination of computers. He was last seen driving home from his therapist at night before never being found again. Things got so bad, that by the time first quarter ended, there were just 300 kids left in a school with a maximum student capacity of about 1,200. The teachers and staff stopped caring about the school. Even Mr. Davis, who was normally calm and reasonable, got ticked off by the smallest inconveniences. One week ago, me and my friends decided to skip school and go out in the woods. The janitor saw us, but she didn’t even care, because kids have been skipping school a lot more lately. We sat on the grass and talked about leaving this now ruined town in exchange for much better things in life. That’s when I saw something red. Upon closer inspection, it was the body of Timmothy Duckworth. That poor kid. He looked to have been stabbed, beaten, and brutally mutilated by a sadistic killer. Then, we saw more dead students. They had similar bodily harm like Timmothy. They were all the kids that went missing. We all ran away from the scene. All four of us vowed to never speak about this. Ever. I’m typing this now because I think Marque had something to do with these killings. He hasn’t escaped, as he’s still behind bars, awaiting trial. However, I think he has hired some hitman or serial killer to capture these teens and torture them before putting them out of their misery. I know Marque had something to do with their deaths, but I don’t know how I’m gonna tell the police about it. It was my fault. No, it was our fault. Whatever sick plan Marque had, we should’ve let him go through with it, and then let him either kill himself and rot in hell, or had him turn himself him and get the justice thing over with. By interrupting his plan, we have only delayed then inevitable. He’s coming for us. And he’s coming for me. I’m Stacy Stevens. I live in Upson County, Georgia, and I go to Upson-Lee High School. Our school is being hunted down by a lunatic school shooter, and I don’t know what to do. Category:Fanfic Category:Creepypasta Category:Shooting